“Katie,” he called as he turned into the secluded hotel driveway. When she didn’t stir, he caressed her cheek. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty, wake up. We’re here.”
She blinked sleepily once, twice, then stared at him as alertly as if she’d never nodded off. Her ability to come wide awake in an instant was an admirable trait for the most part. He couldn’t help imagining, though, what it would be like to have her awaken in his arms, all sleepily sensual and willing.
His imagination was very vivid. His body was aroused in less time than it took her to peel off her seat belt. While he wondered if he’d even be able to move, she was already smiling brightly at the hotel doorman, who’d just swept open her door.
“Mrs. Cassidy, welcome.”
Luke caught Katie’s startled expression and was glad he’d at least had the good sense to call ahead and warn the hotel that he was returning with his new bride. He’d stayed there for several weeks while he and Betty Sue had been finalizing their divorce settlement. Just about everyone on the hotel’s small, discreet staff knew him well.
“Good evening, Raymond,” he called out to the doorman, when he was finally able to step from the car.
“It’s good to see you again, sir,” he said, handing Luke the suite’s key. “I’ll have your bags sent directly up.”
“Whatever happened to check-in?” Katie inquired dryly as they were whisked to the penthouse floor in a private elevator. “And exactly why are you so well-known here?”
“I lived here for a while.”
“And tipped generously, no doubt.”
He nodded agreement. “It always pays to reward excellent service.”
Katie murmured something he couldn’t quite hear.
“What was that?”
“I said for ten thousand, you must be expecting really extraordinary service from me,” she said, her chin lifting with a touch of familiar defiance. Glittering green eyes challenged him. “You probably should have tried my cooking, at least, before we got to this point. My fried chicken is good, but I’m not sure it’s that good.”
“Katie...” Luke began, then cut off his protest. What could he say to convince her that she was hardly in the same league as the hotel staff? Or that he didn’t give two hoots about her fried chicken? He could readily see how a case could be made that he had bought her services just as impartially as he might those of a maid or a concierge.
He fell into a brooding silence that lasted until he saw her awestruck expression as the elevator door opened into the elegant penthouse with its sweeping view of exquisitely landscaped gardens and city lights. Apparently this much at least he’d done right.
“Oh, my,” she murmured.
“Like it?”
The last of her harsh facade dropped away. “It’s amazing. I feel as if I’m in someone’s very expensive, very tasteful apartment, not a hotel at all.” She glanced around slowly. “Except for the basket of fruit and the bottle of champagne. Those are definitely hotel touches.”
Since her mood seemed to have shifted, Luke risked taking her hand in his and drawing her over to the windows. He could see her increasingly delighted expression reflected in the glass as she stared out at their surroundings.
Softly lit fountains cascaded amid the well-tended displays of flowers. Romantic pathways wound through the grounds with benches scattered in secluded nooks for private conversations and stolen kisses. He recalled how many times he’d observed couples on those pathways and had felt a shaft of pure envy for the closeness they shared.
Once, long ago, he’d had that kind of uncomplicated intimacy with someone, but he’d thrown it away. His hand around hers tightened instinctively, and at once her expression turned guarded. She tugged her hand free in a deliberate gesture he couldn’t mistake.
“Katie...”
“It really is wonderful,” she said interrupting, her voice coolly polite.
“The food is excellent. I’ve ordered dinner. It should be here soon.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Katie, you’re always hungry.”
She shook her head. “Not tonight,” she insisted stubbornly. She regarded him speculatively. “You stayed here for a while? How long?”
“Several weeks. I wasn’t in this room, but in one very similar on the floor below. Robby stayed at home with his mother until we’d worked out the divorce and custody arrangements.”
She regarded him with amazement. “Just how rich are you?”
“Rich enough, I suppose.”
“You had all this and you still came back to Clover. Why?”
Luke wasn’t prepared to reveal that she had drawn him back, that he’d been consumed by memories of what they’d once shared, that he’d needed something desperately—a mother for Robby—and she’d been the first person who came into his head. Duty to his son and an aching yearning that was his alone had become so intertwined he hadn’t been able to separate them.
“I wanted the sort of life that’s possible there for Robby,” he said instead. “I want him to grow up surrounded by people who will care about him as much as I do. I don’t want him to grow up afraid of going to school because of guns the other kids might have. The only sort of gang I want him involved with is a bunch of kids walking to the movies on Saturday night.”
“Those are the things you wanted for your son,” she said pointedly. “What about for you? What did coming home represent to you?”
He said the first thing that popped into his head. “Peace of mind. I wanted my life back the way it used to be.”
Katie seemed surprised by the answer. “Luke, you always hated Clover, hated the small-town mentality. You couldn’t wait to get out.”
He shrugged. “Hey, darlin’, I never said I was perfect. But I did learn from my mistakes, and a longing for urban life was one of them. Just read
